


White Flowers

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Communication Failure, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Feelings, Feelings Realization, Hanahaki Disease, Lack of Communication, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon, Sexual Fantasy, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 20:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19236829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Connor has Hanahaki Disease. He doesn't need to breathe, but the white lilies are clogging up his fans, causing him to overheat and slowly shut down.Hank wants to know what's ailing him, but Connor refuses to admit to his shameful feelings and desires for Hank when he's sure the old detective sees him as a son.





	White Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Feeling a bit burnt out so I took a break from my RBB to read and this popped into my head.
> 
> Not much to warn for here, it's pretty tame but rated for Connor's pretty explicit sexual fantasies regarding Hank.

"How do I open it?" Soft hands, a little rough on the palms, but so gentle and brief in their touches, as if Hank was running his fingers across a holy text and not Connor's bare white torso looking for the key that would open his hatch and reveal his secret.

"Hank, don't—let it go." Connor coughed. A petal sat on his tongue and he tucked it underneath, his analysis telling him for the tenth time that he'd coughed up a lily petal. How fitting that a flower associated with death and purity was now killing him from the inside. He knew what Hanahaki Disease was. He'd researched the cure, his thirium pump skipping a beat as he read details on the maintenance required to fix Hanahaki in deviant androids. The concept of having his feelings for Hank ripped out of him with the flowers was worse than death, and so he'd made the choice to deviate from logic once again and die a free man.

Of course Hank could never return his ardor. The old detective saw him as a son. To break that sacred bond by admitting the true, corrupted nature of his feelings would be to witness Hank's disappointment, his face twisted in disgust and disapproval as he grew to understand Connor had come to live with him for less than pure reasons.

Better to be overcome by flowers, his internal cavity filling up with them until they caused his system to overheat and he shut down quietly.

"Androids don't cough, Connor. Something's wrong, and you won't let the CyberLife techs look at it, so let me in," Hank insisted.

"You wouldn't even know what you were looking at." Connor regretted how harsh his tone was, but he couldn't let Hank open him up precisely because he would know exactly what he was seeing. Hank was a great detective. He'd investigated murders and deaths of all kinds. He had to know about this disease of unrequited love, and then he'd know what perverted acts Connor preconstructed while Hank was asleep. He shuddered with desire and shame as he remembered the one about riding Hank's cock, begging the big man to come inside him, to use him for all his pleasures like a sex android.

"Please." Hank's blue eyes pleaded along with his voice, his tone softer than Connor had ever heard it. "Let me help you."

"Nobody can help me," Connor said. He tried to override the command for tears and stop them from falling, but the stems were already growing up into his brain, interrupting his motor functions. It wouldn't be long, now. The disease was in its final stages. By the time Hank knew what was wrong, Connor wouldn't be here to witness his disgust.

A single tear streaked from Connor's left eye and hit the rusty workbench. Hank reached up and thumbed it away. The look on his face was so soft and loving. Connor wished it could be loving in any other context than this one, this unbreakable bond that had chained them together as family instead of as lovers. "Son", "kid"—the words burned each time they slipped from Hank's lips, shaming Connor for the mental images of himself down on his knees worshipping Hank's cock. He was still aroused and wet at the thought of Hank, especially with Hank's hands touching his body so intimately.

"I'm sorry, Connor," Hank whispered. "I know I don't deserve your trust."

"What do you mean?" Connor asked. The petals were constricting his throat, lodging there as his HUD flashed up a warning. He didn't need to breathe, but the plant matter inside him was making him overheat, blocking his internal fans and stuffing the cavities meant for airflow. Coughing was the only way he could expel heat, now.

Hank leaned down and planted a kiss on Connor's bare plastic stomach, a soft, intimate kiss that was definitely not familial. "I don't love you the way you think I do, Connor. There's a reason I lock my bedroom door at night." He closed his eyes, his mouth twisted into a disgusted grimace. "You would be disgusted if you knew what I thought about as I touch myself."

"Tell me," Connor gasped.

"Never," Hank whispered. "I'm so sorry, Connor. You needed a parent and I let you down. That's why you're sick like this, isn't it? I haven't been takin' good care of you."

"Hank." Connor smiled weakly. "That's not it at all. Keep talking. Tell me how you really feel."

"I think I'm in love with you, Connor. I know it's wrong, but—"

Connor felt the tightness in his chest ease as the plant material inside him turned to dust, evaporating now that he knew his love was requited. He sat up and pulled Hank into an open-mouthed kiss, their tongues clashing until Hank was the one gasping for breath. Hank pulled away, his eyes wide, his nostrils flaring as he stood in the cool garage in complete shock.

Connor opened his chest cavity to vent the residual heat as his fans started to whir back into motion. Hank grabbed his flashlight and peered inside. "Everythin' looks normal enough," he muttered. "It's a bit dusty in here, but… You're right. I don't know what I'm lookin' at. I don't know the first thing about you, apparently." He pulled away and Connor closed the panel.

"I think I'm going to be all right now," Connor said. Hank shot him a confused look, running his fingers across his own lips where Connor had kissed him. Connor reached up and opened his mouth, removing the single lily petal still sitting underneath his tongue. He placed it into the palm of Hank's hand and closed Hank's fingers around it.

"Oh," Hank sighed. _"Oh."_ Understanding dawned in his eyes, and Connor managed a soft smile.

"I love you too, Hank," Connor whispered. "If it's wrong, then I don't want to be right." He pulled Hank into another kiss. When Hank opened his hand to caress Connor's cheek, the last lily petal had disappeared, leaving only a trace of soft white dust on Hank's palm to prove it had ever been there at all.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this please leave a comment or hit me up on Twitter @landale!


End file.
